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I’ve moved, gotten my new license and plates, gotten the post box, forwarded the mail, all that jazz-mo. And yet my new-to-me TV is still sitting on the floor in the living room. It’s too large for me to lift up to the TV stand. So until I can corral another person to lift the other end…there it stays.
Tomorrow I’m getting together with friends for a demented take on a gingerbread house party. Other years have apparently yielded a brothel, a drive-by at a crack house, and a house destroyed by a meteor. I’m thinking “ziggurat with sacrificial ceremony”. Or possibly “Noo Yawk Public School”, complete with a beating-in-progress and metal detectors and strip-search zones outside the doors. Either that, or the gingerbread house that FEMA built (house, partially collapsed wall, heavy liquid damage, and a circle on the front door in bright orange icing.) I have no tact whatsoever. None.
There’s a tree farm near my house. Up until last week, it was just a big empty lot. Now it’s filled with branches, wreaths, and trees; and the supply is replenished daily. I loved walking up, choosing among wreaths for the fullest, greenest one, and making sure it smelled good. (Yes, I’m that sad. Now shut up. Does your home smell like fresh-cut noble fir and evergreen that is not in aerosol form?)
Holidailies kicks off today, and I’m playing again. I picked up one excellent regular read last year - maybe lightning will strike twice?
Keywords: | Holidailies |
Posted by Laughing Muse • 475 views • Share this link • Newer • Older
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